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The first rain is not welcome

today the brown grass is no more
blanched stalactites pierce through the floor
roses like onions peel back their lips
trees fall upwards and singe their tips
as the sidewalk winks with impact of rain
spinning silver tubes that collapse all the same
towards its gutter and chasing the tides
bubbling at its grate falling to its side
puddles are broken from once cloudy wholes
skipped through by children with rubbery soles
it whispers the promises surly and sodden
and pounds on fair heads of the forgotten





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Egyptiangirl13 This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
Jul. 31, 2010 at 7:34 am
This is very good!! awesome job and i love your title it very unique:)please check out some of my work if you get the chance:)
 
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